


(you asked) if I was feeling it

by orphan_account



Series: tumblr prompts [10]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Drabble, M/M/M, Multi, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 18:42:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11319333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Hey.” Joe looks up to see Grant standing over him.





	(you asked) if I was feeling it

**Author's Note:**

> ruinsrebuilt said: GOLDEN TRIO for "You look really tired." :D (from [this prompt list](https://mjolll.tumblr.com/post/162317975633/ghostling-four-word-prompts-please-come))
> 
> sorry for any typos
> 
> title from [sober ii (melodrama) by lorde](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z6HWZwv658M)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Hey.” Joe looks up to see Grant standing over him. “You look really tired.” His voice isn’t all that soft due to the fact that he feels like he hasn’t used his voice in days, but it’s quiet; night is falling fast, and it’s only going to get colder from here on out.

It’s then that Grant squints in the failing light into Joe’s foxhole and sees that Babe’s there, dozing fitfully—getting some actual godforsaken _rest_ —next to Joe. His eyes adjust to the shadows hiding the young men from the stretches of moonlight and sees that Joe’s got an arm around Babe’s shoulders. Both of them are slouched low to the ground.

“Someone’s gotta look after him, Chuck,” Joe says in a low voice as Grant gingerly sets himself down into the foxhole across from them. “Doc says he hasn’t been getting any sleep.”

“So you’re helping Doc Roe out now?” he tries to smile, but his bottom lip splits from the cold.

“Fuckin’ right,” Joe says with a nod, and manages to smile back—a flash of teeth, then the swallowing of a yawn.

“I’ll take first watch,” Grant says as gently as he can. “Get some rest, Joe.” _You need it, too,_ is what he doesn’t say.

Joe glances down at Babe—and it’s a considering, concerned look he gives the redhead, something Grant knows he’s done himself to both Babe and Joe ever since they came to Bastogne and found themselves stuck on this icy plane of hell—before shrugging a shoulder and pressing closer to Babe for warmth.

“This kid,” Joe mumbles, averting his eyes because Grant won’t stop looking at him _like that_ —soft, his eyes full of the words his heart wants to say—“he—”

“Yeah, I know.” _I can feel it, too_. “Go to sleep, Joe.”

Joe’s eyes flutter shut. Grant tilts his head back and finds himself looking up at the sky.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
